


The Stars in Her Wake

by Idrelle_Miocovani



Series: Idrelle's Holiday Fanfic Gifts 2017 [6]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adamant Fortress, Angst, Asperger Inquisitor, Awkward Romance, Awkward worrying about each other, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 11:48:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13166301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idrelle_Miocovani/pseuds/Idrelle_Miocovani
Summary: As she watches the siege of Adamant Fortress, Eurydice Lavellan worries about the man risking his life for the cause she leads.





	The Stars in Her Wake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Star_Nymph](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Nymph/gifts).



> This is a gift for the lovely [@star--nymph](https://star--nymph.tumblr.com/). Eurydice Lavellan belongs to her. I hope I did her justice!
> 
> Thanks for reading. :)

Though the air hung heavy with the scent of smoke and ash, the stars were bright that night. They were like tiny silver pinpricks in deep blue satin. They reminded her of the gemstones that adorned Vivienne’s robes. Or of the Inquisition insignia emblazoned on Cullen’s scabbard. Or of the embroidered threads in the Grey Warden banners—banners that now waved, tattered and scorched, on the distant keep’s walls. 

Walls that now burned. 

Every tenth heartbeat, a flaming rock lit up the night sky, launched from the Inquisition’s trebuchets towards Adamant’s infamous walls. Walls that had never fallen, walls that were built to withstand a Blight. Well, _now_ they would fall. There was no stopping it. The siege had begun and no matter what Erimond and Warden-Commander Clarel planned, they could not stop the Inquisition. For they had something far more deadlier than any Blight—raw ingenuity and a desperate need to save the world. 

Eurydice sat at the edge of the Inquisition camp, on a stone ledge half buried in the sand. Her legs dangled over the edge, the soles of her boots barely scraping the sand as she swung them back and forth. She gripped her staff in one hand, her fingers clenching and un-clenching around it as she watched the battle rage. An hour, maybe two, had passed since the Inquisition vanguard had left to open a route to Adamant’s walls. Her advisors—Cullen included—insisted she remain behind until a path had been cleared. As Inquisitor, she would have a target on her back as soon as she walked behind enemy lines. Despite her magical proficiency, she could not hold off a horde of demons and trained Wardens if they swarmed her. She wasn’t like Vivienne and her Knight-Enchanter capabilities—she did her damage from the fringes, careful, precise, always one step removed from the fury of the front lines, controlling the battle field from a distance. 

That didn’t stop her from worrying about those who had already engaged in battle. 

 _I should be out there. I should be fighting with the rest. I need to be out there._  

She tried not to think about Cullen. He had led the vanguard’s charge.

Eurydice glanced up, eyes glued to the sky as she watched another flaming rock arc gracefully through the air and crash down against the ancient walls. Despite the distance from the battle, she thought she could hear the cries of the wounded and dying. She could smell and taste their blood, the acrid coppery taste thick on her tongue. She shuddered, turning her head away, looking back up the valley, beyond the Inquisition camp. 

When she looked that way, the desert was cool and dark, the night sky unmarred, the air silent, the stars brilliant. There was a promise in its darkness, a promise of a land that was beyond war and flame. A promise that no matter what was done this night, the land would remain—and remember. 

Another trebuchet fired. Eurydice squeezed her eyes shut, but she could still see the blazing flame through her eyelids, feel the heat on her cheeks. She wanted to tell herself she was imagining things, that it was impossible for her to see or feel as she did, that logistically she was too far away from the battle for it to be real. But she knew what she sensed—she wouldn’t lie to herself. It was real to her. 

And Cullen… 

He was out there. He was in the midst of the fray, fighting for his men, fighting for the chance to break through the enemy ranks, fighting for _her._ She could see him in her mind’s eye, sword flashing, armour blood-splattered, matching the wardens step for step, blow for blow.   

She thought of the times, many months over, when she had led mission after mission, putting herself in the way of bandits, wolves, Venatori and red templars while he had remained at Skyhold and trained their troops. He had never vocally expressed worry for her safety, but it had always found a way to manifest. It was in the touch on her shoulder before she left the castle walls, in the tense scribble of the letters he wrote while she was in the field, in the relief in his voice when she finally returned unscathed. He thought she didn’t notice, but she did. 

And now she knew how he felt. 

There was an uncomfortable dryness in Eurydice’s mouth. She wet her chapped lips and ran a hand through her hair, twisting the white locks around a finger. Why had they come here? Why had their path led them to this barren desert that smelled of death and decay? She knew the answers—that the Grey Wardens had been compromised, that they had to be stopped lest they grow into the army Corypheus would use to destroy the world—but she was still filled with the need to ask _why._ Why this? Why now? 

Why had they lost so much? 

Why did they always have to lose so much? 

She yanked on her hair, lips pursed, eyes closed. Her fingers tightened around her staff. It felt cold against the palm of her hand. She could feel every line, every grain in the smooth wood. 

 _We’re not going to lose. Not again._ _I refuse._  

“I refuse,” she murmured. “I refuse… I refuse…” 

A hand touched her shoulder. 

Her eyes snapped open. Her hand seized his and she felt the warmth of his skin, the familiar roughness of his callused fingers. “You came back,” she murmured. She looked up, heart leaping in her chest. 

Cullen stood at her side, illuminated by the lamps lining the edge of camp. Though there was blood smeared across his face, sweat on his brow and exhaustion in his eyes, he had not lost the quiet determination he had before the battle began. 

“Inquisitor, I—” 

Eurydice let go of his hand and got to her feet. Her fingers flexed around her staff. “You came back,” she repeated. 

He ran a hand through his hair. “Of course I did. Someone needed to report our status—” 

“A runner would do, Commander, and you know it.” 

He paused, mouth slightly open. “Yes. Well—” He coughed. “Some things are too important not to entrust to someone further up the chain of command, Inquisitor.” 

Eurydice flushed. She tugged at an earlobe. “Commander—” 

“Yes?” 

She tugged harder at her ear. “What do you have to report?” 

Cullen glanced towards the raging battle. “The walls will soon be breached. Adamant will fall. It is now that the real work begins.” 

Eurydice thought of flames and dying soldiers. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “You need me. You need the Inquisitor.” 

“Yes.” He caught her eye. “We do.” 

Eurydice gripped her staff. She stared back at him, taking in every little detail. Her eyes widened as she scanned his face. There was a cut on his cheek that she hadn’t noticed before. “You’re hurt,” she said. 

“It’s nothing. Just a scrape.” 

“That doesn’t look like a scrape, that looks like a cut.” 

“Is this really the time to argue semantics?” 

“What happened?” 

“I’m fine—”

“What happened?” 

“You know well enough what happens in battle—” 

“That I do—” 

“Inquisitor, please, I can’t—” Cullen paused. “I’m fine. Believe me, I am fine.” 

“Cullen—” Eurydice seized his hand. “I’m sorry. I… I was worried. I was worried about… you.” 

He brushed a lock of hair away from her face. “I know. I’m sorry.” He glanced away. “But I can’t be distracted now. I have an army to command. I can’t worry about you worrying about me.” 

“There’s a simple solution for that,” Eurydice said. Then she rapped his chest plate with the tip of her staff, the resounding sound emphatic and oddly satisfying to her ears. “Next time _, I’m going to fight with you.”_

Cullen chuckled warily. “Is that your way of saying, ‘leave me behind and I’ll kick your ass?’” 

Eurydice ground the butt of her staff into the sand. “Absolutely.” 

Cullen smiled. “I’ll try to keep that in mind, Inquisitor.” 

“You better, Commander.” 

The smile faded from Cullen’s face. He stepped forwards, closing the space between them and gently kissed her forehead. Eurydice squeezed her eyes shut, arms and hands shaking. 

“This won’t be a defeat. I won’t let it.” 

Eurydice opened her eyes. She saw the grim determination on Cullen’s face. She nodded, hands twisting around her staff as they looked towards the battlefield. Her eyes flickered upwards, at the sparkling stars above, one last reminder of the world beyond, the world they were fighting for, before they headed into the Void. 

“I won’t let it, either.”


End file.
